Scribble
by CardioQueen
Summary: 3.113.12 fic. Bang.


She sat in the chair, her hands flipping through a chart, her eyes watching him. She would flip the page every so often and avert her eyes, as if she was trying to hide the fact that she was watching him through her thick curls.

Like he didn't notice.

He let out a long sigh, as if he was going to speak and her head bolted up, waiting for the words, but nothing came except for a bemused gaze back into her eyes and she narrowed her eyes at him and returned to the chart.

She kicked her feet up on the bed, aiming for his leg and gave a satisfied smile when he retracted it, knowing that she got him, and she withheld a snicker, not knowing if that would make her lose this contest.

Burke shook his head as he reached down to push her feet off the bed and she looked up to him in a challenge and kicked them back up, grinning.

The game continued for a few moments, both of them trying their best to withhold smiles and sounds of bemusement and Cristina finally jumped to her feet, and leaned over him, her curls tickling his shoulders and she pressed her lips to his.

He didn't respond for a moment, but then slid his hands up through her hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her a little closer, his body aching for something he couldn't have in that moment.

She pulled herself away and smiled at him, then pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and a pin and scribbled a note on the paper in her worst handwriting.

'You want more, you talk first.'

He shook his head, smiling with his eyes and pulled the pin from her hand and wrote a note on the paper, 'Nice try.'

She sunk back down into the chair, the look of mischief gone from her face and replaced by one of frustration.

Bailey stalked into the room, her hands placed on her hips and lips puckered, a good sign that she wasn't happy with one of them, if not both. "Yang, did you do what I told you to do, or are you just in here jackin' around, wasting this hospital's time?"

"No, Dr. Bailey..." She trailed off, looking to the ground.

"Well get to it." Bailey snapped, "I'm gonna have to sit here and watch you like some sort of babysitter to make sure you get your job done..."

Burke watched, half expecting her to leave the room, walking away like a wounded puppy dog, but she looked up to him, her mouth wide open as if words would fall out, but nothing would come.

"Yang, what's the problem?"

"I can't do it, Dr. Bailey." She sighed, looking over to her. "You can't make me do it."

"Miranda..." Burke began, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"You hush!" She pointed her finger at Burke, her gaze fixed on Cristina, "Dr. Yang. You _will_ do what I told you to, or you will not see the inside of an OR for a month, is that understood?" 

Cristina sunk further down in the chair wishing she could disappear and she finally forced the words trailing from her mouth, her voice nearly inaudible, "Howsyourhand?"

Burke trembled with restrained laughter and smiled at Bailey, "Only you could break her."

"You think you're funny? You think that I'm amused by your games?" She advanced towards Burke, "Now it's your turn."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter? Was it not clear enough the first time I said it? Let me try again. It's your turn. As in you. Speak. To her. Now." Bailey sputtered at him, her frustration level increasing.

He shifted uncomfortably in the bed and glanced down at Cristina who had drawn her knees to her chest and was glaring at him, waiting for his response.

"It's fine." His words were low, empty. Forced.

"That's a start." Bailey nodded with satisfaction. "Now, you two are going to settle your problems before I sign those discharge papers, Dr. Burke."

"I hardly think-"

"You hardly think what? Cristina. Talk. Now." She pulled the door closed behind her and left the two staring at each other.

She pulled herself from the chair and sat on the side of his bed, a deafening silence still present between the two of them, and waited for a few minutes, her eyes fixed with his, pleading with him to say something.

For him to break.

He resolved himself to not breaking, even though technically he'd won the game by default because Bailey made her speak. The victory wasn't as sweet. Not what he'd pictured in his head.

And second best wasn't good enough.

Cristina sighed and dropped her hands to her lap, "You win. You won. It's over. Whatever."

"It wasn't a game."

"Yes it was." She protested, "You know it, I know it. It was a game. And you won. End of conversation."

"I hardly think just because I won that would call for the end of the conversation." He pulled his glasses from his face, setting them on the table.

"What am I supposed to say?"

"What would I like for you to say? I would like an apology. I would like to know why you turned _me_ in. That what I would like for you to say. What you're going to say? I imagine it probably won't be much." It surprised him how much bitterness there was in his voice, how much bitterness he still felt after it was all said and done.

"I'm not going to apologize for what I did, because I wasn't wrong." Her voice was steady and strong, "I didn't just turn you in, I turned _us_ in. I couldn't take it anymore, okay. I couldn't handle the pressure, I couldn't keep it up. I tried. I tried for you, and I failed, and if you want to be mad at me for that, you can be mad, but I didn't do anything wrong."

He clenched his jaw, her words enforcing what Addison had driven him to think about only two days prior and shook his head, "Okay."

Cristina looked up to him, surprise in her eyes, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"I'm sticking."

He smiled, pushing a strand of hair from her face, "You're sticking...I'm surprised, but you're sticking."

"I'm full of surprises." She assured him, and grabbed the piece of paper from his tray table and quickly scribbled something on it then rose from the bed, the paper still clutched in her hand. "I'm gonna go get Bailey, and have her sign the discharge papers so we can go."

"Okay."

She grabbed his right hand and pressed the paper into it, bending over to kiss him one more time, and left the room in a hurried fashion.

Burke straightened the piece of paper in his hands, his eyes falling over the notes they'd scratched to each other moments earlier and smiled as he came across her handwriting on the bottom of the paper.

'I love you.'

A/N: Sticky sweet and gooey mushy. It's all I could come up with. I'm really disappointed. It's a bit OC, I think, and a bit too fluffy, but I'm seriously dry. This is the first attempt I've made at something that at least came out halfway-readable.


End file.
